Taken for a Fool
by liketolaugh
Summary: After the Millenium Earl is killed, Allen has nowhere left to go. That's before he meets a group of disabled children living on the streets.
1. A Month (or Six)

**A/N: Yay! Ethereal's been wrapped up, which leaves a slot open for a new story. Yes, I have actually reached the point where I refuse to start publishing a work-in-progress until I've finished a story. I have that many WIPs. -.- Oh, well. This won't last long, but I hope you like it anyway!**

**First, a note: Aaron is Joker, Gertrude is Beast, Edmund is Dagger, Horatio is Jumbo, and Hope is Freckle. It's obvious, I know, but I figured I'd put this here anyway.**

**Title: Taken for a Fool**

**Author: liketolaugh**

**Rating: T**

**Pairings: None**

**Genre: Drama/Mystery**

**Warnings: None**

**Summary: After the Millenium Earl is killed, Allen has nowhere left to go. That's before he meets a group of disabled children living on the streets.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, Black Butler is not mine. Neither is D. Gray-man.**

* * *

It was only for a month or two.

That had been what Allen assured his friends, the day he left. It was only for a month or two. Just a month or two back on the streets, to get his bearings back.

It did briefly occur to him that most people did not recover their bearings by going to live on the streets.

But. Regardless. A month or two.

That, of course, was before he met Aaron.

Aaron was a boy Allen's age with red hair and no right arm. When Allen first met him, he was doing something close to a fair job of supporting himself, far better than Allen himself had done when he was first a street rat.

That wasn't to say that he had an easy time of things.

* * *

"'Ey! What d'you think yer doing, ya brat?"

Allen started and looked back behind him to the fruit stand, which he'd only just visited a few minutes ago.

The stand's owner was standing over a brutally thin red-haired boy, who was on the ground, hand to his face. Allen put two and two together and concluded that the man had hit the boy for trying to steal. It wouldn't be the first time.

He waited for the fruit vendor (not the most generous of men, Allen knew) to chase the boy off before going after him. Allen could easily spare some.

Allen had been out on the street for three weeks now, and, demented as it was, felt much better for it. For most of his life – all of it, really, prior to the Black Order – he had been in a less-than-plentiful environment, and though he enjoyed the benefits that came with it, they also came with a certain measure of discomfort, of expectation, a strange social pressure Allen didn't like.

Here, there was none of that. Allen was dirty, his clothing stained and rumpled and a little torn in a few places, with his ribbon and gloves gone who-knew-where, and he felt more himself than he had in months.

He found the boy sitting on a tattered coat, looking somewhat dejected. For the first time, Allen noted that his right sleeve hung limp, no arm present to support it.

Oh. So he was one of _those._

For all the trouble that his arm had caused him as a child, he had always been glad that he, at least, had a body that was whole, if not quite fully functional. It was more than some street children could say for themselves.

"Hey," he said quietly, attracting the boy's attention. The boy looked up to him with a wary, guarded gaze. Allen offered him a slightly tired smile and held out an apple.

The boy looked between Allen and the apple for several long moments before he spoke, voice hoarse.

"What do ye want for it?"

"Nothing," Allen answered easily, having expected the question, voice a little softer than normal. "But if you don't take it, I'm leaving it here."

The boy looked at him for a moment longer, apparently assessing whether or not he was serious, and then reached forward to take the apple, withdrawing it hastily to bite at it hungrily. Allen gave him a small smile and sat down beside him, setting down a few more apples and a partial loaf of bread between them.

Allen was rather good at tucking things away. He was also glad that he retained his skills as a clown, well enough to be a street performer. Even without makeup or supplies, he was good enough to improvise with whatever he found or, almost as often, was given.

It helped that his arm was no longer grotesque and horrifying, it really did.

Seeing the gesture, the boy beside him cast him a wary glance. Allen caught it and gave him a small smile and a nod. Almost instantly, the boy's hand darted out and took off a chunk of the bread, and he quickly devoured that, too.

Like this, they finished the food together, and once it was gone, Allen held his left hand out to the boy.

"Allen," he offered.

The boy looked down at his hand – uncovered, black flesh exposed for any to see – and violet eyes flickered with realization. After all, everyone on the streets had a reason for being there, and he must be assuming that Allen's unnatural hand was his. Once, he would have been right.

And the boy took Allen's strange hand with his own single one, shaking it without further hesitation. "Aaron."

* * *

Aaron turned out to be a good-natured boy, much like Allen himself. After that first time, they stuck together for the most part. Allen made enough to support himself and Aaron, and Aaron knew the area better than Allen thought he ever would. Aaron still came up with nearly a quarter of their food, Allen feeling guilty because he knew that _he _was the one putting pressure on, and then occasionally would find something for Allen to use in his performance, though Allen chose not to ask how he'd gotten them.

Winter was coming now; Allen had meant to be off the street by now, but he flatly refused to leave Aaron and, if he admitted it to himself, he didn't feel quite ready yet. Aaron, on the other hand, was beginning to look more apprehensive as time passed, something Allen understood well, with a shudder of memory.

But they would be fine, Allen assured Aaron, offering the other boy a smile. They would be fine.

Then they switched locations and found a one-legged girl, maybe a year younger, named Gertrude.

Or, rather, Aaron found her. Took quite a liking to her, too, Allen mused.

* * *

Allen carefully gathered up the odds and ends he'd used that day – a short but thick stick, a broken kitchen knife, and a ball that Aaron had found him – and bowed one last time to the assembled crowd, offering a smile and holding out a tattered hat that was once brightly colored, also something Aaron found and had apparently thought was funny. Coins and bills landed inside and he smiled, then turned and headed back, remembering to return to kitchen knife to where he'd found it and dropping the stick to leave it where it lay.

Soon enough, he'd turned the corner to where he and Aaron had planned to meet that morning, and tilted his head in question. "Aaron?"

Aaron gave him a sheepish smile and a shrug, while the black-haired girl beside him scowled defensively, arms crossed. Her left leg stretched out in front of her, while her right one was a wrapped-up stump.

Allen only blinked once before offering her a warm smile. "Hey, miss. Mind telling me your name?"

Her scowl softened only slightly, but, at a prompting nudge from Aaron, she did offer, if only grudgingly, "Gertrude." Then, to Aaron, "This is that friend you mentioned?"

Aaron gave her a smile, slightly wry but distinctly fond, and nodded. "Yep, that's Allen. He's been a lifesaver, if I'm honest."

"You were doing fine on your own," Allen dismissed, sitting down beside Aaron and digging into his pocket. He favored Gertrude with another smile of his own. "We can afford one more, if you like."

Gertrude looked at him warily for a moment, but Aaron smiled at her, too, and then she followed, if a little hesitantly, a little suspiciously, eyes flicking over them.

Allen recalled that there had been times that having an unspeakably ugly arm had actually been useful, and gave her a slightly sad smile. She scowled at him. He chuckled, and Aaron winked at him.

* * *

Gertrude was nice to have around; Aaron liked her, and Allen could tell well enough that she liked him just as much. Things were a little harder, a little tighter, but they could manage, even with winter coming on fast.

Then it did, and it was the coldest one Allen could remember, full of snow and ice. Nights were long and warmth was scarce, but they could manage.

They would be fine.

Then three became five with perpetually childlike Peter and Wendy, then six with one-legged Edmund. Six became seven with overlarge Horatio, and seven turned to eight with burn-scarred Hope.

One had become eight, and Allen suddenly realized that the situation had changed far beyond what it had been when he first left the Black Order.

Eight people, and the only one with a fully functional body was Allen.

Not to say that they didn't all have their talents; Peter and Wendy were clever and fast, with one distracting the unsuspecting victim while the other stole what they needed. Edmund, while unable to run, had a brilliant aim with whatever you might give him to throw. Gertrude had a temper like fire, fast and hot, and a hit to match, if you were foolish enough to come within reach. Horatio was surprisingly kind, and a better deterrent than one could hope for to fend away any who might consider attacking their group, to say nothing of when they actually did. Even little Hope, younger than any of them, helped, living up to her name and giving them a beacon when nights were unbearable.

Things had changed. It a group, everything was different. With other people to mind, there were rules, and though that was exactly what Allen had been trying to escape, he found that he almost didn't mind.

Allen would spend the day out and around, doing his tricks and being stubbornly legitimate, something he knew the others found endless exasperation and amusement in. At the same time, Aaron and any combination of the others would go do something less legal. Allen tried to find out what, once, but Horatio had informed him, completely serious, that Aaron had forbidden any of them from telling him.

Apparently, Aaron found Allen's determination to be lawful novel enough to be preserved.

Halfway through winter, though, it was colder than ever, and Allen gave in.

One night later, they had to move all the way across town, with Horatio carrying Edmund and Allen carrying Gertrude, but it was worth it for the blankets Allen's winnings had earned them, short-lived though they were bound to be.

* * *

"Allen?"

Hope's small voice had Allen turning over instantly to look at her. "Yes, Hope?"

"Are you cold?"

Allen's first impulse was to lie. Hope didn't need to know that he _was _cold, that his arm, especially, ached with displeasure. But her green eye, wide and worried, had him telling the truth before he realized he was speaking.

"Yes."

"I can tell." One arm, thin and frail, shaking slightly, reached out to point. "You're rubbin' yer arm, like it hurts."

Before Allen could come up with a response to that, another call claimed his attention.

"Allen, the little ones're cold." That was Aaron, sounding a little tired himself, but more worried, and when Allen looked over, Wendy was shivering, with Peter clinging to her as tight as he could, also shaking. He could see Gertrude and Edmund struggling to hide their own cold.

"Bring them all over here," Allen called back, sitting up. He gave Hope a smile. "Hope, come here a moment."

Hope, curious, braved the cold to come over to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, hugging the girl close.

"We'll keep each other warm this way," he explained to her.

Instantly, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight, burying her face in the crook of his neck with a muffled, "'Kay."

Aaron had brought the rest of the group over by now, and Allen looked over at him, silver eyes set. "Have Peter and Wendy curl up there." He pointed to the ground close by. "Then Gertrude and Edmund on either side." He considered a moment, thinking, then continued. "Pick a side yourself, and I'll take the other with Hope. Horatio can go where he likes. That should keep us warm until morning, at least. I'll see about getting more blankets tomorrow."

Aaron gave Allen a nod, face serious, and the group curled up together and weathered another night.

* * *

And so they lasted out the winter and headed into spring, which was warmer, but also much, much wetter.

Still, it was far better than winter, and Allen and Aaron no longer had to worry about one of the little ones freezing to death during the night.

Then Hope came running up to him in the middle of a rainy day.

* * *

"Allen! Allen!"

Allen reached up and snatched the pipe, the ball, and the umbrella he'd been lent out of the air before turning concerned silver eyes on Hope. "Hope? What's wrong? You know you're not supposed to go off alone."

He eye was wide, not with fear, but shock. "Some guy came an' he's talkin' to Aaron, an' he said to come an' get you."

Allen frowned, a furrow appearing between his brows. "You sure?"

For all that Allen brought in what he could, it was Aaron who spent the most time dealing with anyone who might confront their little group, and he'd never brought it up before, let alone asked for help.

But Hope was nodding her head frantically, and so apparently Aaron had deemed it necessary for both of them to be there. Quickly.

Allen nodded, gave her a reassuring smile, and turned back to what small crowd he'd managed to gather on the rainy day. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It seems I'm needed." He held out the collecting hat, striped with apparently amusing orange and blue, and pitying murmurs accompanied what offerings he received. He bowed, returned the umbrella, and then, without further delay, hurried to follow Hope back.

Soon enough, they were back, and a well-dressed man was standing over their group, most of which was hiding under one of the blankets while Aaron stood facing him.

Aaron didn't notice Allen, not at first, but as soon as he did, he waved him over. "Hey, Allen! This man says he has an offer for us!"

The man turned to look as Allen tilted his head, and his eyes widened as they roamed the white-haired boy's face. Allen had to resist the urge to cringe. He knew that look.

He really, really hated that look.

Deliberately, Allen reached up, brushing his hair out of his face with his left hand, revealing both the startling black flesh and the pentagram of his scar. Generally, this was enough to shatter the look into one of horror.

Not this time.

The man smiled at him, a little too warmly, and stepped forward. One hand lightly brushed the side of Allen's face, and then he said, "Amazing. You look almost like an angel, boy, colored in monochrome, yet you are marred by the devil's own hand."

Allen twitched. The man moved away, smiling, if possible, even more genially than before.

"Won't you please," he continued, as if nothing had occurred, "accept my offer and come with me? I would give you a home – food, warmth, shelter, and more."

"What for?" Aaron asked warily.

"If you will only, one day, when you are able," the man started, eyes sparkling with possibility, as if he were the one being offered the chance of a lifetime, and not they, "make a circus for me."

It was an odd request, and for a moment, they all just stared at him. Then Peter piped up,

"'Ey, Allen, didn'tcha say you had a lot o' fun at the circus?"

Allen nodded, and looked at Aaron, who gave him a smile. Allen looked back at the man, and though he didn't like him, he smiled, too, took his hand, and shook it once.

"Deal," he said, voice soft, but certain.

And the man smiled broadly back.

* * *

**So... Yay? I think it's alright. I promise that they all get their stage names first thing next chapter. Unfortunately, that also means that this is the last chapter in which Allen remains Allen, but, consistency, you know? Ah, well. Please review!**


	2. Welcome to the Circus

**A/N: Alright, since I'm making little progress with my other stories (I keep getting new ideas!) I'm going to post this next chapter while I'm naughtily working on the third. *sheepish grin* Enjoy!**

**Title: Taken for a Fool**

**Author: liketolaugh**

**Rating: T**

**Pairings: None**

**Genre: Drama/Mystery**

**Warnings: None**

**Summary: After the Millenium Earl is killed, Allen has nowhere left to go. That's before he meets a group of disabled children living on the streets.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, Black Butler is not mine. Neither is D. Gray-man.**

* * *

"Hey, Allen."

Allen looked over to Aaron, slightly puzzled. Aaron grinned at him.

"We've started planning already, but we don't 'ave any stage names."

Allen's eyes sparked with realization and an amused glint appeared in his eyes. "No, we don't," he agreed. "You want to start?"

The others leaned forward with some anticipation as Aaron grinned again.

"Yeah," he agreed. He looked over them, a slight look of concentration appearing. Then he started pointing. "Ye can be Dagger… and ye'll be Beast."

"Hey!" they protested together.

"They're easy to remember, 'cause of your acts," Aaron explained. "I'll be Joker, and Horatio over there can be Jumbo."

"Me an' Wendy don't want no circus names!" Peter objected.

"That's alright," Allen assured him, chuckling. "Not everyone likes stage names."

"Gimme a name! Gimme a name!" Hope insisted, green eye wide and hopeful.

Both older boys considered her for a moment. Then, suddenly, Allen said,

"Doll."

Hope blanched. "Whaaaat? But I don't want no girly name!" She looked visibly distressed by his choice. "It don't suit me none!"

Joker, though, brightened visibly. "No, it suits ye perfect! 'Cause ye are our adorable little sister, ye know?" He grinned at Allen as Hope pouted.

It took a while to get her to agree, but she eventually did, as long as she could be 'Freckle' off-stage.

"What about me, then?" Allen asked, chuckling slightly.

All of them looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, before Freckle suddenly piped up, smiling and with her eye bright,

"Winter."

Noises of agreement swiftly followed this declaration, and Winter blinked once before smiling.

"Alright."

* * *

It was less than three months before the Baron found a doctor willing to make and maintain their prostheses, and Winter could scarcely remember feeling so grateful in his life. The wonder on Joker's face as he flexed his new hand had been a sight to see, and Beast had nearly cried the first time she walked. Winter swore up and down that Dagger outright _had._

Less than a year later, when Winter was nearly eighteen, the Noah's Ark Circus (Winter's suggestion) was well on its way to becoming well-established, each of them well familiar with their roles. Jumbo would often open the show with his fire-eating, and Dagger would throw his knives better than he'd ever thrown a rock on the streets. Peter and Wendy would do their flawless acrobatics routine, Doll her high-wire act, and Beast would finish with her tiger Betty.

Joker and Winter, by popular agreement, guided the show along as co-ringmasters, which Winter hadn't even known was a thing. The way they did it, though, it was almost an act all on its own. Both of them agreed that a clown would stand out in a bad way against the other acts, and Winter had admitted that he really didn't want to do anything else, despite his ability to at least passably do most of the other acts.

Winter actually quite liked his new costume, though it took some getting used to. A frosted blue long-sleeve jacket with matching pants, both sparkling with silver snowflakes, sat over a white shirt. His eyes were spiked with a shimmering light blue in keeping with the paleness of his appearance, against which his black hand, left uncovered, stood out harshly.

Winter thought that his smooth black left hand and Joker's bone white right one worked well together, and the others seemed to agree.

As a year passed, the Noah's Ark circus only rose in popularity, and they couldn't be more pleased by it.

Then most of the rest of the first string – everyone but Winter – started doing something for the Baron. They wouldn't tell Winter about it, not a word, and Winter was worried.

It didn't always happen. It didn't even _often _happen. But every so often, the first string would disappear for a night, with Joker asking Winter to 'watch the others', and that was all he'd say, with a rueful smile on his face and a shadow in his eyes.

Winter worried.

Then, when Winter was nineteen, fast approaching twenty, yet another new member joined. While far from an unusual occurrence, this one was special. He was _good. _A little too good. And some of the things he said… Well, Winter, taking into account his past as an exorcist, was a little less inclined to simply dismiss him.

Soon after that was when everything began to fall apart.

* * *

Winter stood beside Joker in the middle of the tent as the crowd filed in, chattering excitedly and taking their seats. He cast them a wide smile, though few noticed.

Finally, the last of the crowd settled, and, in unison, Joker and Winter spread their arms wide, bone white and night black side by side, earning gratifying gasps of shock.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Winter called to the crowd with a broad smile, welcoming and pleased.

"Boy and girls!" added Joker, smiling just as wide, but with a touch of mischief.

"Welcome to the Noah's Ark circus," they finished together, taking a step back and letting their arms drop.

"I am Joker," Joker continued, bowing to the crowd. "And this lad over here beside me-"

"I'm older than you are, you twit!"

"Is Winter," Joker finished, grinning unashamedly as the crowd laughed.

Winter rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the crowd. "If you'll lend me your eyes and your ears…"

"What, because yours is damaged?" Joker cut in with a grin. He yelped as Winter smacked him over the head, earning more laughter. "D'ow!"

"If you'll lend me your _eyes _and your _ears," _Winter repeated, louder, "You'll find our circus packed with acts that will astound you, blow your very minds."

"Now," Joker picked up, "with a spectacular blast from our fire-eater…"

"Let the show of the century _begin!" _they said together, bowing and stepping apart to clear the way for Jumbo.

Winter grinned and let the habits of performance take over as act after act passed by with a happy familiarity, though the thrill never quite faded as the audience laughed and 'ooh'ed and 'ah'ed, gasped and murmured, screamed and sighed.

"Next we have the flying trapeze act," Joker announced grandly, "with a duo in perfect sync!"

"Better than me and Joker, at least!" Winter laughed. Joker chuckled and the audience laughed their way into the act.

"And never missing a target!" Winter called, only for Joker to interrupt slyly,

"At least that he'll say!"

"The knife thrower with a perfect record!" Winter finished, as though determined to ignore Joker's interruption, even as he bit back a grin at the wave of chuckles in favor of a 'strained' smile.

"For the next act!" Joker called out, gesturing grandly to the high wire. "The princess of our circus undertakes her death-defying tightrope walk!"

Winter took one look up at Doll, up on the high wire, and made a dizzy face, deliberately stumbling into Joker, who pushed him away with a protest.

"Now we have a marvel of the world – half man and half snake!" Winter continued.

"A magnificent dance by the snakeman!" Joker butted in. Winter scowled at him.

"And last-" Joker began.

"But certainly not least!" Winter inserted.

"The star of our circus makes her entrance! Feast your eyes on our animal tamer!"

"Joker certainly does!" Winter added, giving Joker his own sly grin. Joker flailed dramatically for a moment before evidently deciding to pretend not to have heard.

"I would dearly love to have ye, the audience, participate in this act!" Joker announced to them, holding his skeletal hand out invitingly.

Winter let his eyes run over the crowd, and almost instantly, a pale man with raven hair and a tail coat stood. Winter let his hand dart out to cover Joker's mouth as he started to point to someone else, evidently having not seen, and held out his own hand to the man. "You, sir, in the tail coat!" Then, with a mischievous grin, "Come quick to the stage, before Joker calls someone else!"

Joker threw Winter's hand off and cleared his throat. "Right this way, my good man!"

The man scarcely paused before he picked his way down the aisle and then stepping into the ring.

Winter smiled at him. "Thank you, sir. If you'll please lie down over he-" He stopped short, freezing in place as the man darted past him straight for Betty.

"Oh, my," the man murmured, seemingly awestruck, his face _very _close to Betty's. "What round eyes you have…"

All three circus workers were frozen for a moment, but then Winter darted forward, hands hovering uncertainly over Betty, heart pounding as if in preparation to stop. "Sir, please, if you would-"

The man was paying him absolutely no attention. "Vivid stripes the likes of which I have never seen… and such soft ears… You take my breath away."

"Sir!" Winter pleaded. His eye twinged lightly as he looked at the man, but he took no notice, too distracted by his _recklessness._

"Oh? Your claws have gotten a touch long. You must not let your grooming go amiss, now…"

_Oh, god, this could _not _be happening, _Winter pleaded with no one in particular, one hand settling firmly on Betty's side as she started to snarl warningly. _At least people run from akuma!_

"Your paw pads are plump and also most enchanting." Betty bit him. "Ah."

Winter's reaction was a little more adverse. "Betty!" he yelped, left hand darting out to smack her on the side. "No!"

Needless to say, Winter was not an animal tamer.

The bite, though, jolted Beast into action, and she brought her whip back. "Betty!" she snapped, voice much angrier and firmer than Winter's. "Let go of him!"

She brought her whip crashing down, whistling through the air, but the man's hand shot up and caught it, making the three others flinch away.

"She is not to blame," the man said coolly, sitting back as Betty reluctantly released him. "In the face of such loveliness, I simply could not stop myself from being thoughtlessly rude." The man stroked the whip almost lovingly, as though familiar with the device himself. "Furthermore… One cannot train animals simply by blindly swinging one's whip."

Beast gave him an indignant look, which Betty seemed to react to, lunging forward to bite at the man's head again.

"Betty!" screamed Beast angrily, left bereft of her whip even as Winter smacked Betty's side again, radiating mildly panicked disapproval. "Spit him out now!"

The man just smiled. "My, what a tomboy you are."

* * *

After the show, Winter dragged Joker by the hand to go after the man in the tailcoat. Winter went off searching one way, while Joker went another.

Within minutes, Winter heard Joker call out, "Hey, Winter! Found 'em!" Then, presumably to the man, "Ye there, sir, ye in the tailcoat!" Yep, that's him.

When Winter reached him, Joker was already apologizing to the man. "-so sorry about what 'appened back there."

"We don't normally lose control of the act like that," Winter put in with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess we need to practice it a little more, huh?"

"Not at all," the man disagreed, almost red eyes travelling to Winter and staying there, strangely interested and almost calculating. "Please forgive my untoward behavior."

Winter still chuckled sheepishly. "Poor planning is poor planning, sir. We never thought about what to do if someone got so close to Betty." His eye twinged, like before, and he rubbed at it absently. Then, more concerned, he continued, "You got bit pretty bad. Are you sure you're alright?"

"It might be a good idea to get our troupe doctor to take a look at ye," Joker agreed, with a friendly smile at the man. Unlike Winter, he was just as open offstage as on, while Winter knew for a fact that he was far more soft-spoken when he didn't have an audience to entertain. "Come 'round back, if ye would," Joker went on.

The man smiled, and Winter had the uncomfortable feeling that there was something more to it than what was immediately visible. "Much obliged."

And didn't that sound entirely too sincere?

* * *

**I hope you all liked that! I'm actually pretty proud of it. I know I'm following the manga at the moment but, well, this is where Allen is. And you people have NO IDEA how many times I typed 'Allen' and had to go back and correct it to 'Winter'. My journal is full of scribbled-out 'Allen's. Anyway, don't worry, it won't keep following the manga (I'm lying, it will, but Allen won't be sticking eerily close to Sebastian and Ciel) because Allen has his own stuff to worry about. The timelines will interact, but they won't be the _same, _is what I'm saying. Anyway. I'll stop scrambling to defend myself now. Please review!**


	3. No Need to Apologize

**A/N: And the third chapter arrives. I'm still following the manga at this point, but I like to think I put more variation on it than most. (still virtually unacceptable... I need to remind myself of that... RPR)**

**Title: Taken for a Fool**

**Author: liketolaugh**

**Rating: T**

**Pairings: None**

**Genre: Drama/Mystery**

**Warnings: None**

**Summary: After the Millenium Earl is killed, Allen has nowhere left to go. That's before he meets a group of disabled children living on the streets.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, Black Butler is not mine. Neither is D. Gray-man.**

* * *

"Right this way, sir," Winter urged, leading the man toward the back. Glancing around, he added, embarrassed, "I'm sorry, it's such a mess back here… Watch your step, there's stuff everywhere." He grimaced in memory, having fallen victim to the haphazardly strewn about materials himself on more than one occasion.

"Quite all right," the man assured him, eyes lingering on Winter for a little too long for the boy's taste.

Joker was a little ways ahead of Winter, and he brightened slightly as he spotted someone. "Snake," he called out. "Is the doctor in?"

Snake turned his head to look at him silently, and one of his snakes (Winter could never tell them apart) pointed in a different direction from the first aid tent.

That would be a no, then.

Joker groaned. "Ah, damn," he grumbled. "Guess he's not."

They were interrupted as twin chortles sounded from off to the side.

"Isn't that the lad who was bitten by the tiger?"

"You're right!" Peter laughed to his sister. "What a lob of a lad!"

"Peter! Wendy!" Winter scolded uselessly, bemoaning the fact that no one took him seriously when he scolded them. They claimed he was too 'nice' for it.

But he gave up, with a slight huff, and offered the man an apologetic smile, and Joker claimed their attention to lead the way the snake had pointed.

"There he is!" Winter exclaimed, gaining Joker's attention. "Excuse me, doc!"

He looked up from where he was examining Dagger's leg with a slightly startled little frown. "Eh?" Then he smiled, readily turning his wheelchair around. "Oh, Winter. Is your eye bothering you again?"

"No," Winter insisted, rubbing at it with one fist. "Well, yes, a little. But that's not the point! This man-"

"Ah!" Dagger interrupted, slamming a fist into his palm in realization. "Yer the feller who got bit by Betty, aren'tcha? In the 'ead, come to that!"

Doctor looked horrified. "_Betty _bit you?" He wheeled forward in a hurry, grabbing the unsuspecting man by the wrist and pulling him. "Come to the medical tent at once!"

"…Are you _quite _certain he was bitten?" Doctor asked Winter.

Winter nodded furiously.

"Quite viciously, too," Joker put in casually.

"There's not a sign of it on him," Doctor muttered, checking one last time, just to be sure.

"It was but a play bite," the man said cheerfully.

Winter begged to differ.

"I'm glad you're alright," Winter told the man honestly, giving him a warm, relieved smile.

"Leader would have had our heads if you weren't," Joker added with a shudder, scratching the back of his head, only to yelp as Winter smacked it.

"That's not the point!"

"Alright, alright! Geez, I'm glad he's alright, too." Joker trailed off into grumbles, staring at Winter resentfully as he rubbed his abused head.

Confusion flickered in the man's eyes and Winter provided, "Our leader is a bit old to run the circus, so he left us to do it." A light smile flickered across Winter's features. "Besides, I had circus experience even when we started."

Just then, the flap of the tent was pushed aside and Beast poked her head in, already speaking.

"Doctor, if you have time, could you take a look at…" She trailed off as her eyes landed on the black-haired man and flared with anger. "You!"

"Sis!" cried Dagger enthusiastically, completely oblivious. "My leg's troublin' me too, surely this proves that- Huh?"

He stopped short as Beast stormed right past him, blazing eyes fixed on the man.

Winter's eyes widened as he realized what Beast was on about. "Beast-"

"You're the crazy man from before!" she continued, ignoring him. "What are you doing here? Because of you, the act was a disas-"

"Beast!" Winter repeated, more firmly this time. "The act went fine, the audience loved it." Seeing her doubtful glare, he amended, "The audience thought it went fine."

"But-!"

_"Fine," _Winter repeated sternly. "Now get your leg seen to, I know how it can get."

Beast huffed, looking irritable, but crossed the room to the mildly exasperated Doctor anyway.

"How it can get?" the man questioned, reddish-brown eyes gleaming with interest.

"Yes," Winter confirmed, sitting back as Beast sat down with a huff on a stool in front of the Doctor. "See, this circus was formed for, well, a reason."

"Oh?" the man frowned, looking interested.

"See, each of us, we have some problem or other," Joker explained, eyes on Beast as she pointed out the problem spot. "When we first met, Winter was the only one of us with a good body. I was missing an arm, myself." He held out his skeletal hand in example, clacking the fingers lightly.

"And what of Winter?" the man asked.

Winter chuckled sheepishly, waving his own human-shaped hand around a little. "Oh, there's nothing actually wrong with it, it's just ugly. A birth defect, you understand."

The man caught the hand in his own gloved one and pulled it closer to examine the pale red cross on the back. "Well, I wouldn't call it a defect, precisely," he murmured.

Winter blinked, before giving the man a smile, and gently reclaiming his hand.

"I handle the artificial limbs of all of the troupe members, from the carving of the parts to maintenance, as well as Winter's physical therapy," Doctor continued, fiddling with the knee of Beast's leg.

"I keep telling him I can do the therapy by myself," Winter put in wryly, rubbing his eye again. "But he doesn't seem to believe me."

"Why would I?" Doctor retorted. "You don't take care of any _other _part of yourself!"

"I do fine!" Winter argued indignantly.

Joker clapped Winter on the shoulder, laughing. "Give it up, Winter. He's not going to believe ye."

Winter pouted.

"What are they made of?" the man asked, going back to the former topic and still seeming _far _too interested. "Wood?"

"Ceramic," Doctor corrected.

"Ceramic?"

Doctor chuckled. "Well, I say ceramic. But I use special materials to make it light and durable." Doctor smiled proudly at his creation even as the man reached out to ghost his fingers across it, earning himself a glower from Beast.

"I see," the man said thoughtfully. "It also feels nice to the touch."

Doctor smiled at him. "I also use ball-shaped parts in the joints, as it makes movement smoother."

"This is indeed delicate workmanship," the man murmured, hand travelling up Beast's leg. "Oh?"

He had spotted the hallmark at the base of Beast's leg, and Winter, memories of his old master coming back to him, got a bad feeling about this.

Just as the man's hand darted behind Beast's knee joint, Winter flew forward and grabbed the hand, stopping it. As the man paused, looking up at him with that same guarded look in his red eyes, Winter gave him a strained smile. "I think that's enough touching for a day. Beast needs to go retrain Betty, after all."

The man held his grey gaze for one moment, then two, before nodding with a false smile and letting go. "But of course. I apologize for keeping you," he added to Beast.

But it was too late; the damage was done, and Dagger's long-held crush on Beast had been fired up as he fumed. "He- ye- just tried to-! _How dare ye, ye bastard!_" He let out an angry cry, daggers flying through the air toward the man, and Winter barely had time to yelp before the man had leaped away, leaving Winter to the incoming daggers. Winter ducked under two of them, then let his left hand dart out, catching the third, the hard, almost metal-like skin unbothered by the sharp blade.

The man flashed him an interested, but otherwise unreadable look before moving on to avoid more flying daggers, easily weaving away from each of them in turn, finally resorted to leaping high into the air, as easily as though he had Lenalee's Dark Boots, and landing neatly on a clothes line high in the air.

"I seem to have touched a sore spot," he commented lightly, a smirk on his face.

"Dagger, the tent-!" Doctor tried to protest.

"To heck with the tent!" Dagger snapped, drawing out more daggers. Winter wondered, vaguely, why they let him carry around so many offstage. Really. "Sis' purity is more important!"

And he let fly six more daggers, which soared toward the man on the clothesline. A moment later, Winter rubbed his eye, then looked again. Maybe he _should _ask Doctor to take a look at his eye, because there was no way he was seeing this right.

But no. There the man stood, smirking, all six daggers caught between his fingers.

"No way," he breathed, in unison with Dagger's outraged cry of the same words.

But as Beast drew her arm back, eyes narrowing in a glare, Winter snapped out of it, yelping and hurrying forward to catch her wrist. Joker beat him to it, blocking the whip with a baton and meeting her eyes firmly. She looked back for moment.

Then he smiled brightly, conjured flowers from the baton, and presented them to Beast. "Here! Brighten your day a bit! Think that's enough messing for a day, yeah?"

"Why didn't you stop them sooner?" Doctor wailed. _"Winter!"_

"I couldn't do anything!" Winter protested. "They don't listen to me!" Then, with a long sigh, he turned back to the man and called out, "I think it's safe to come down now, sir."

The man looked at him for a moment, and then a smirk darted across his face and he nodded, hopping down with the grace of a dancer, or perhaps an assassin. Winter rubbed at his eye as it _stung _at him, and frowned. Something… something wasn't quite right.

His own grey eyes lingered on the black-haired man as he passed him to where Joker was soothing Beast's ruffled feathers, and then passed him to return the throwing knives to a rather huffy Dagger.

"Ye have some mighty great reflexes, sir," Joker added to the man, eying him speculatively. Winter knew that look; he was thinking of recruiting him.

Something deep in Winter's gut, where his old exorcist's instincts lay, told him that that was a bad idea. He shivered.

"So much so, I've have a mind to scout ye for our troupe," Joker continued.

The man paused. Twitched lightly.

Then whipped around to stare Joker intensely in the face. No, Winter did not mean eyes. He meant face. The man was that close. "Are you sure?" he asked lowly.

Joker looked mildly alarmed, a fixed smile on his face. "Eh… yes?"

The man withdrew, letting out a soft sigh. "To tell the truth, my current master is so willful that I have had quite enough of him."

"Master?" Joker echoed, surprised.

Winter looked at him, almost as surprised. "Couldn't you tell? He's dressed well, but as a servant, and he's not near pompous enough for an aristocrat, wouldn't you say?"

"Huh." Joker nodded thoughtfully. "Guess not, eh?" He chuckled. "So, what d'ye say?"

The man smiled. "I'd like to join at once, if I may."

Joker grinned, reaching out to clap the man on the shoulder. "I like ye! Ye can join as soon as ye like."

"Joker!" Beast protested furiously. "You can't decide just like that!"

"Actually, he can," Winter interrupted helpfully.

"There is one other I would like to introduce you to," the man interrupted, smiling charmingly.

"If he's as talented as ye," Joker agreed readily. "Like Winter was, ye are, like ye've been in a circus already. He'll have to go through our tryout, though."

"Understood," he smiled. "In that case, the two of us shall impose upon you tomorrow. Thank you very much for today."

He bowed, turned, and left, calling over his shoulder, "You do not need to show me the way out."

The flap fell shut behind him and Winter chuckled, looking at Joker with lightly amused grey eyes. "Well, that was quite an adventure, wasn't it?"

"Yes, indeed!" Joker laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Never thought I'd be so glad ye made me go apologize!"

Winter chuckled, too, pushing away the apprehension stirring in his stomach.

* * *

**Alright... next chapter, things start becoming interesting! ...I think. Probably. Well. Please review!**


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